


Gods and Monsters

by Cardinal_Daughter



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Drama, F/M, Post Battle of Gods, Romance, Smut, Spouses Communicating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:51:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardinal_Daughter/pseuds/Cardinal_Daughter
Summary: "I should leave the fighting of gods and monsters to Saiyans."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! Apologies for any mistakes. 
> 
> I do not own Dragon Ball/Z/Super.

Even when sporting a purple and green bruise, Bulma Briefs looked fantastic. She'd ignored all the remarks from her friends, denied taking a senzu bean- the others needed it more than she did- and carried on as if she had not a care in the world.  
  
It was a perfect facade, one that fooled everyone- except her husband.  
  
With the events of the day over, the guests began to leave. It had been a memorable occasion, only in part to the lavish party Bulma had held, and after celebrating, fighting, surviving, and celebrating some more, everyone was tired. In small groups the Z warriors left, until at last Bulma was left with only her family.  
  
The confident smile dropped, her shoulders sagged, and she let out a sigh as she gingerly cupped her bruised cheek- the fact that nothing was broken was beyond a miracle- and she walked past the clean up crew to scoop her young son into her arms, groaning at his weight.  
  
Lamenting the fact that soon her son would be too heavy to carry, she shifted, determined to make up the three flights of stairs to the boy's room, and started her journey, ignoring her protesting muscles.  
  
Once Trunks was settled in bed- the boy slept like a rock and hadn't been disturbed in the slightest- she made her way to her own room, leaving the light off as she entered, kicking off her shoes and tugging off her dress and letting it fall to the floor. She flicked on the lamp on her vanity and stood for a moment, inspecting herself in the mirror and taking in the bruise for the first time that day. She blinked in surprise at the sight of it, not realizing just how much of her face was covered by the mark.  
  
"I'm going to waste so much concealer on this thing," she remarked dryly before turning, catching site of the bruise on her back from where she'd hit the floor before her son could catch her.  
  
She barely remembered it, but she could remember her son's voice, full of worry, saying her name. She smiled at the thought, knowing she had been in good, if small, hands.  
  
Her arm twisted, reaching behind her to brush against the small bruise, hissing as it ached painfully under her touch.  
  
"What was I thinking?" She asked her reflection, "Smacking a _god_?"  
  
"I've been wondering the same thing."  
  
Bulma glanced over her shoulder to see Vegeta leaning against the door frame, staring at the spot on her back with a look of disgust. Lowering her hand, she turned to face him fully, chin lifted defiantly.  
  
"Maybe I spend so much time with proud Saiyans, I sometimes forget I'm not one myself."  
  
Vegeta 'harumphed' and pushed forward, moving to stand in front of Bulma. Reaching out, he let his gloved fingers brush against the bruise. Bulma flinched from the slight pain, but did not move away from him.  
  
"You should not forget who you are," Vegeta commented as he cupped her chin and moved her so that he could better inspect the bruise. "You are lucky this is all he did to you."  
  
Bulma huffed and jerked her chin out of Vegeta's grip. "I'm aware of how lucky I got, thank you very much."  
  
"Are you?" Vegeta questioned, voice hard in a way Bulma had never quite heard. "Because I don't think you realize just how much he could have-"  
  
He broke off, looking away, toward their bed, and growled. He was silent for a long moment, body trembling with barely restrained rage. Bulma allowed herself a moment to study the Saiyan before her, and thought back to the events of that day. She'd not witnessed it, but several reports had informed her that Vegeta had gone mad after she'd been knocked out. He rarely showed such emotion, especially in front of others, and she wondered what exactly had made him react so violently when he'd made it abundantly clear to her from the beginning of their relationship that to show he cared for her would put her in greater danger.  
  
What had changed?  
  
Vegeta seemed to sense her question and turned his head to look at her.  
  
"He hurt you."  
  
"I'm okay-"  
  
"No!" His hands flew forward and gripped her shoulders, the action sudden but his grip was soft, controlled. "You don't understand," he hissed, "He _hurt_ you, which means I _failed_ you."  
  
A breath escaped her. "No, Vegeta, you didn't fail m-"  
  
"You are hurt," Vegeta interrupted, "You could have been killed. And there was nothing I could have done to stop Beerus, had he seen fit to kill you. I was not strong enough; I was afraid. And because of that moment of fear, I let the most important person in my life get hurt." He hung his head in shame. "I failed you."  
  
Reaching up, Bulma repeated his earlier gesture, lifting his chin with her fingers. She waited until he looked at her, and she smiled at him softly. "You didn't fail me. You avenged me."  
  
Vegeta blinked, silent. Bulma continued.  
  
"I acted of my own accord," Bulma said, "Which was not _entirely_ uninfluenced by some liquid courage, and I did something stupid. Personally, I'd say I deserve what I got."  
  
When Vegeta opened his mouth to protest, Bulma leaned up and kissed him quiet. "Not done. Now, I appreciate the fact that you want to protect me- trust me, it makes me feel loved-" she paused here to wink at him, ignoring the pain in her cheek, "But, Vegeta. Please don't beat yourself up over this. I'm alive. I'm okay."  
  
She let go of his chin and reached for his hands, winding them around her lower back and pressing herself closer to him. "I'm _here_. You protected me. And our son. And the planet."  
  
His hands squeezed her tight against him. "I don't care about the damn planet, Woman."  
  
She gave him a knowing grin. "I know. Doesn't change the fact that you did it."  
  
His brow furrowed. Then he asked, voice soft and full of concern, "Are you in pain?"  
  
She shrugged. Vegeta growled. "Don't lie to me."  
  
With a sigh, she nodded. "Yes. It hurts a lot, actually."  
  
"Why didn't you take the senzu?"  
  
Bulma busied herself by running her hands up and down Vegeta's arms, over his shoulders to settle at the back of his neck. "The others needed them."  
  
"They've had worse and survived. You needed it more."  
  
"Maybe I'm keeping it as a reminder then."  
  
"What sort of reminder," he asked, studying the bruise.  
  
"To leave the fighting of gods and monsters to the Saiyans."  
  
Vegeta nodded. "A wise decision. I knew you were intelligent."  
  
"Ooh, a compliment!" Bulma said in mock surprise, "What's the occasion?"  
  
He flushed and grunted, not rising to her teasing bait. His eyes cast downward and Bulma sobered. "Hey," she said, fingers rubbing soft circles at the nape of his neck. "What else is wrong?"  
  
Vegeta was silent for a moment, thinking. Finally he spoke, "I don't like what Kakarot said about you."  
  
"What? The slapping thing? He was joking."  
  
"He was making a joke of your well-being," Vegeta snapped, "And that is unacceptable. Despite the risks, despite how weak you are-" he ignored her glare and continued, "You frequently join the fray, whether for support or to assist. You always have. I do not see Kakarot's mate doing the same, and I will not tolerate him using you as a means to an end!"  
  
"Vegeta," Bulma breathed gently, sliding her hands to cup his face, "It's okay. Goku said something stupid: that's nothing new."  
  
Vegeta leaned forward, pressed his forehead against hers, squeezing her close to him and breathing deep, taking her in. His hands slid up her back, careful of the other bruise, relishing in the feel of her soft skin against his hands. Bulma shifted enough to press a kiss to his lips.  
  
"You ruin this bra, _you'l_ l be calling Korin for a senzu."  
  
Vegeta let out a short breath of a laugh. "Understood."  
  
He then scooped her into his arms and moved them toward the bed. Laying her down, he stepped back, taking a moment to peel off his Saiyan armor before joining her, hovering over her with a look that hinted at his wicked intentions.  
  
Bulma smiled softly at him, propping herself up on her elbows to kiss him once more. "You fought well. You always do."  
  
He grunted in response, choosing instead to kiss her again. Bulma pulled back. "I mean it. You're amazing." Her hand trailed down his chest, ghosting over his abs and continuing down further. "I'm not sure what changed, but somehow you decided I was worth sticking around for. I'm glad of that."  
  
Her hand reached its destination and she gave him a quick squeeze, enjoying the way his eyes seemed to glaze over in pleasure.  
  
"It's only because you're the least annoying human on this mud-ball," he replied, a little breathless, "I've grown to tolerate you."  
  
"Aww, I love you too." She kissed him, gasping in surprise when he wound an arm around her and flipped them over, allowing her to straddle him. She looked down at her prince, who was once more staring at her cheek, eyes dark with concern. "Vegeta-"  
  
He cut her off by raising up and kissing her hard, moving his lips almost frantically against hers, pausing only long enough to help her shimmy out of her undergarments- careful not to rip them- and groaned as she settled back over him and he slid inside. He kissed her again, nipping her bottom lip gently as she rocked above him, eyes squeezed tight in pleasure.  
  
His hands ran up and down her sides, squeezed her breast lightly, before one settled on her waist and the other on her uninjured cheek. "Never do that again," he said in between thrusts, "Promise me."  
  
"I promise," she gasped, pace quickening.  
  
"I can't lose you," he whispered, pained, "I won't lose you."  
  
"You won't!" She said, voice hitching, "Vegeta!"  
  
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her cries as they moved together, each motion knocking away the memory of the day until all that remained was the two of them in that moment.  
  
When at last they came down from their respective highs, Bulma settled against Vegeta, good cheek pressed against the apex of his arm. She idly kissed the spot closest to her and hummed in contentment when she felt the solid weight of his arm curl around her, perhaps a little too tight, as if he were intending to never let her part from him again. She said nothing, instead choosing to relish the squeezing she was certain he didn't realize he was doing.  
  
This incident had shaken him.  
  
 _We've come a long way since that day Gero blew up my 'copter_ , Bulma mused as she wrapped her arm across Vegeta's stomach, tracing over the hard planes of his muscles and reveling in his warmth. He was always so warm.  
  
Warm, solid, real. How had she gotten so lucky?  
  
"I'm getting you a senzu tomorrow," Vegeta stated suddenly, and his tone left no room for argument.  
  
Bulma nodded silently, choosing to simply accept his decision on the matter. She'd meant it when she said she'd refused the bean because she thought she needed the reminder. She still thought she needed it. She had no business stepping into a battle zone- at least not to fight. That was better left for the warriors, not the scientists. She could contribute in her own way, as she always had. If not for her sake, then for Vegeta and her son.  
  
No more fighting gods on her part.  
  
"Okay," she agreed. She didn't need it, but if it made her husband feel better, she would take it.  
  
She could almost _feel_ his surprise at her easy acquiescence. "Aren't you going to disagree with me?"  
  
Shaking her head lazily, Bulma adjusted herself so her legs were tangled with his. "You'll get me one no matter what, so I may as well just take it. Stubborn Saiyan."  
  
"Stubborn Earthling." The remark was followed by the feeling of lips pressed to her temple. Bulma sighed contentedly.  
  
"You wouldn't have me any other way," she remarked, the confidence of her words tempered by the softness in which she spoke them. It was quiet, and she wanted to retain the gentleness that had settled over them. It was comforting, especially after such a trying day.  
  
"I can think of plenty of ways in which I would have you," Vegeta remarked smugly. Bulma laughed despite herself.  
  
"And you call _me_ vulgar."  
  
"Your foul mouth must have rubbed off on me."  
  
"Oh, I can rub off on you, all right," Bulma said, throwing away the gentle mood like a stifling blanket in the middle of summer and moved to straddle her husband once more. "It's still my birthday after all, pal, and you owe me a present."  
  
"And what do you desire, _wife?_ "  
  
It wasn't often he referred to her as such, the term not applicable in Saiyan culture. It sent a thrill through her that settled warm in her core, and she gave him her most wicked smile as an idea formed in her brilliant mind.  
  
"I want you to fuck me so hard that senzu bean will actually be worth the trip. "  
  
Vegeta's gaze flickered from momentary shock at her foul words to a look that was purely feral as her request settled between them. He gripped her hips in his hands just a little harder than normal, and Bulma trembled in delight.  
  
"You sure you can handle it?" He asked even as he rolled them over, moving one hand to grab her wrists, pinning them above her head. His grip was iron-clad.  
  
Bulma shivered. "I took on a god today and lived," she boasted, even as her voice hitched in anticipation, "There's nothing I can't handle."


End file.
